


Delicate

by quietcarnage



Series: Don't Blame Me, Delicately [1]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Fluff and Angst, Guilt, M/M, Peter Parker in Love, Post-Spider-Man: Far From Home, Quentin Beck Loves Peter Parker, Quentin Beck in Love, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:55:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24107098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietcarnage/pseuds/quietcarnage
Summary: “This ain’t for the best. My reputation’s never been worse, soYou must like me for me.”
Relationships: Quentin Beck/Peter Parker
Series: Don't Blame Me, Delicately [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1747417
Comments: 10
Kudos: 83





	Delicate

The bar he was sitting in was roaring with noise, unruly drunks throwing food and shooting pool while girls screeched karaoke into the broken mic’s. It was gross, but no one here knew or cared about who he was. That was all he could ask.

As he nursed the scotch in his palm, he felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket, a systematic double buzz. 

He didn't need to check, he already knew who it was. Only one person was going to be texting him at this time of night. Or ever, really.

_I see you in there. Come outside, I have a surprise :))_

He couldn’t help but smile. It wasn’t fair. 

A glance out the window was all he needed to confirm it. Peter stood out like an angel in the snow against the night. The streetlamp above him made the snowflakes in his hair shimmer like diamonds, and Quentin couldn’t help but melt at how gorgeous he was.

He got out of his seat, leaving the drink behind. It'd be put on his tab.

-

“Surprise!” Peter threw his hands up, a rain of powdery snow fluttering down over them. He was dressed in a plush looking fishermans sweater, dark navy blue jeans, an old yellow backpack, and a dazzling smile to top it all off. “It’s me. I’m the surprise. I hope that wasn’t too disappointing.” He beamed, arms settling on Quentin’s shoulders. 

“Honey, you could never disappoint me.” He cupped Peter's chin in his hands, leaning down to lightly peck the tip of Peter’s nose. Pure, perfect, pretty little Peter. 

Pulling back, their hands immediately threaded their fingers together. Magnetic. Peter was magnetic. 

“How’d you know I’d be here?”

“It’s Thursday. Your life is like clockwork, Mr. Beck. I thought you said you were gonna stop drinking in joints like this by the way." He gestured at the dive bar behind them, "Did you seriously think I wouldn’t find out?” He pouted.

Quentin chuckled. “Alright, you caught me. I lied, I’m sorry.”

“You are forgiven." Peter smiled, gazing up at him with those big brown bambi eyes. 

How did he get so damn lucky?

"Come on, let’s go.” Peter tugged him towards the alley behind the bar, his hands already pulling at the buttons of his jeans. That sobered him right up, his head whipping around to ensure they were alone as he frantically tried to stop Peter from taking his pants off. 

“Peter. Peter, hon, as cute as you are, I’m not going to fuck you in the dirty alley behind a dive bar- _stop_ ,” he pleaded. The look Peter shot him in response made him want to laugh, but he didn't stop stripping. 

The sweater, then jeans came off, and Peter was left in his Spider-Man suit. “I can’t believe you thought I was really that horny. I’m a changed man, Q. I have standards now. The alley has to be clean.” He quipped, hastily shoving the clothes in his backpack before slipping the mask over his head.

“Har har.” 

“Anyways. I didn’t want to walk, so I brought my suit.” Quentin rolled his eyes with a smirk.

“Why not just the shooters? You don't really need the mask anymore or anyth-” that earned him a punch in the side. “Ow! Jeez, okay fine Spider-Man. Where to?”

“Who cares?” 

And Quentin could hear the smile under the mask.

Right. Who cares? He would go anywhere or he'd never leave the city again, if it meant that he got to be with Peter.

Quentin wrapped his arms around him, and as they swung up into the sky, he felt the familiar rush that came with web-swinging. His stomach dropped at every rise and fall, upsetting the drink he'd had before and he had to will himself not to throw up. Or scream. Roller coasters were never his favorite rides, in fact he still avoided them to this day, and swinging around the city felt a lot like that.

Peter and him had gone to Luna Park that summer. It was their first 'real' date, and once Peter had found out about his pseudo fear of coasters, the brat made him ride as many as they could fit into the day. It was traumatic, but he'd made it up to him later that night, getting on his own ride and letting Beck make him scream as much as he had. 

Clinging on to Peter now, he resisted the urge to make any sound other than breathy laughter. It was much scarier than a roller coaster, but also, much safer. He knew Peter would never let anything happen to him.

The first time Peter took him out swinging, he had (admittedly) screamed. A lot. 

In all fairness, Peter dropped him a few times on purpose to freak him out, the little twerp.

It was all in good fun though, and he savored every moment they spent together. Looking back at how long their relationship had lasted thus far, especially their rocky beginnings, it was impossible not to feel like it would all just snap and end some day. They had it too good for too long. People used to be _horrible_ to Peter about their relationship. As if he didn’t already know that Quentin was bad news a hundred times over. 

He was still waiting for Peter to come to his senses and realize he wasn’t worth it. 

His family and friends were always on his ass about how betrayal and heartbreak were inevitable, and that only an idiot would date someone who had tried to kill them before. 

And they were right. Peter was too trusting, too forgiving. 

After he had exposed Peter’s identity to the world, it had been rough for a while, but most of the population were already on his side. Peter was just good like that. It was impossible to hate him. The kid was able to recover fully though as soon as the truth came out and they all found out that Mysterio was in fact alive. 

People _loved_ Peter, and they loved Spider-Man. He was set. 

But when the world found out about their relationship, it was even worse for a while. As people picked apart his life. He practically lived under a microscope for a good month or so, but after the tabloids stopped focusing on Peter being an idiot, and more or Quentin manipulating him into being in said relationship, the world went back to loving him all the same.

It was impossible to hate him.

Quentin Beck’s reputation on the other hand, was unrecoverable. Just a mention of his name had people reeling in anger and disgust about what had happened in Mexico, Venice, Prague, London, and now Peter. He couldn’t just go back to being an engineer, as if anyone would hire or fund him, and he couldn’t exactly change his name and move countries either. He was wanted worldwide to answer for his crimes.

He was stuck with who he was, hated universally, and despite all this, Peter…

“Beck, relax, you’re squeezing too hard. Come on, open your eyes! I promise not to drop you” He giggled in his ear, the sound clear and crisp like a bell. 

Peter loved him.

Fuck, he had no idea why.

It wasn't like this in the beginning. They’d met up a few times and beat the shit out of each other. Peter, furious about the identity issue, Quentin, out of pure spite and failure alone. Somewhere along the lines, those punches turned to heavy petting, and keeping each other's beds warm, and from there, the rest of their lives.

Sex with Peter Parker had been addicting. That’s all it was then. And back then, it was _bad._ Hateful. Spiteful. Neither of them could have ever imagined they’d have what they have now. It was domestic, and Quentin was full on head over heels in love.

Back then, he’d call Peter all sorts of filthy names. He’d degrade him, he’d try as hard as he could to make it hurt. He _hated_ Peter Parker. Blamed all his shortcomings and failures on Peter, even if he knew deep down it wasn’t his fault. It was just easier to blame it on someone else.

He didn’t expect Peter to be into it.

He didn’t expect Peter to come back looking for more.

He didn’t expect to fall in love.

When people started to find out who Peter’s new mystery (ha) boyfriend was, they gave him an incredibly hard time. The tabloids went mad over “Spider-Man Dating Former Nememis/Terrorist Mysterio?!” “Peter Parker: New Yorks Defender, Or A Foolish Kid In Love?” “Spider-Menace Dating Mysterio - Strategic or Naive?” They really went after him, calling him every name in the book. Peter said it didn’t bother him, but he could tell that the headlines were wearing him thin. 

Whatever they said about Spider-Man though, they doubled down on Mysterio. “Terrorist” was one of the nicer names they called him. One paper openly called him a pedophile, (despite Peter being in his twenties), and every other paper that wanted a piece dogpiled on that, focusing on him being nearly double Peter’s age. It was a sensational title, and it sold papers. They accused him of grooming Peter, manipulating him, even of drugging him. It got so out of hand that Peter ended up having to hire a lawyer to stop the slander, and even then, they called him selfish for trying to keep Peter to himself, rather than letting him find a nice girl his age. 

That if he really was changed like Peter claimed he had, he shouldn’t chain Peter to himself, and let him be.

And they’d be right. He was selfish. He loved Peter. Loved him more than he loved himself. He wouldn’t give him up for anything. He’d fight the world for Peter Parker. He’d burn it to the ground.

He was lucky enough to have found a second chance in Peter, and he was going to hold onto it as tight as he could. If Peter could bear being with him, that was all he needed. The rest of the world could go screw itself as far as he cared. They didn’t deserve Spider-Man, and they sure as hell didn’t deserve Peter Parker.

-

Peter landed them on the balcony of their shared apartment. It wasn’t anything special, but to Quentin, it may as well have been a mansion.

“Okay, I lied earlier too, I do have a surprise.” He pulled the mask off, brown curls tumbling out in a messy mop around his face. 

“Rascal.”

He wanted to run his hands through them until they were orderly again.

“Tada!” He gestured to the dining room table. 

It was a small dinner spread, two plates neatly lined up on either end, all illuminated by candle light. There were rose petals scattered about, a path leading from the window to the table. He was at a loss for words, mouth gaping as he stared at the soft glow of the candles flickering across the walls.

He _loved_ Peter.

“Oh, honey, you didn’t-”

Peter wrapped his arms around Quentin’s bicep, leaning into him. “I totally did. It’s nothing fancy, just some box pasta, and a cheese and fruit plate and some other stuff, but oh! I tossed the salad myself!”

 _Adored_ Peter.

“It’s perfect… What’s the occasion? I didn’t forget an anniversary did I?” He panicked, straining to remember the date.

“Calm down, big boy. There’s no occasion. I just like you, like a lot. I know you’ve been feeling down, so I thought I'd try and cheer you up. He got on his toes to press a firm kiss to Quentin’s lips. 

Absolutely _smitten._

Somehow, he had managed to get lucky enough to win Peter’s affections. In whatever fucked up universe he lived in, he managed to screw the pooch worse than he ever thought he could, but _Peter_. Somehow he got to keep _Peter_ , who loved, and loved, and loved unrelentingly. How was that fair?

When they parted, Quentin laughed, pulling him back and peppering his lips with more. “I love you. I love you so damn much.”

He picked Peter up, legs reflexively wrapping around his waist as he walked them into a wall. Peter ground his hips forward, Quentin groaning in response as he sucked a dark mark into his neck. “Fuck, I love you so so much.”

“I know, I know, you tell me every day.” Peter giggled. “But seriously, I know it’s mostly box stuff, but I worked super hard on the dinner. So food first, then we’ll see what happens afterwards.” He winked as they pulled apart, Peter setting his feet back on the ground.

“I mean it, Pete. I really, truly love you more than you could ever imagine.” He bent down, placing his head on the shorter man’s shoulders. “You’re so… so good to me, and I don’t deserve you. You’re just so perfect, and I’m so afraid of messing this up, of messing you up, and- and I’m not asking you to make any promises, hon, but can we just…”

“Stop it. I know where this is going.” Peter pouted up at him. “You’re gonna go on a rant about how you don’t deserve me, or this lovely dinner, or the quiet little life we have tucked away in the west side where no one can bug us. I’m gonna tell you now, and I’ll say it over and over again as often as you need to hear it. I love you for you. You are not those tabloids. You are not your past mistakes.”

“Okay, but my past mistakes include blowing up several countries.”

“Quentin.”

“I’m sorry! I just… I don’t deserve you. I want you, I love you, but I know I don’t des-”

“Shut up.”

He does.

“And I think I’m perfectly capable of deciding on my own whether or not you deserve me.”

“I know you are, baby, I’m sorry.” He kissed Peter’s jaw softly, earning him a signature grin. 

Peter playfully pushed him away towards the table. “Good, now take a seat. I’ll make you a drink.” 

-

Everything tasted better with Peter.

Even Safeway boxed pre-prepared pasta. Because Peter made it.

Looking across the candlelit table at Peter, he caught his doe brown eyes, followed by that familiar smile Peter liked to share with everyone. He wanted it for himself, but having him there, now, he was already asking too much.

He could barely remember a time before Peter.

He remembered living, obviously, it was just difficult to imagine how he got by without knowing how beautiful his future would be.

Back when all he could do when he stared at those eyes was pretend Peter was his. Pretend like Peter would ever love him even a quarter of the amount that he did. Pretend like he’d ever get the courage to just _not_ be an asshole so he could tell him. _Really_ tell him how much he wanted to be able to call him his.

His eyes went wide as a meatball soared past his head, landing with a splat on the wall behind him, Peter smirking, a fork poised as a slingshot between his fingers.

“You’re on, sunshine.”

It was little things like that. Food fights, dancing in the kitchen, two toothbrushes in his bathroom, soft footsteps padding up and down the hall, notes scribbled on the fridge, waking up to a warm bed. 

It was things like that, that had him so desperate to keep Peter all to himself, that made him selfish.

Peter deserved better.

 _He_ wanted to be better.

Their relationship was so damn delicate. Peter was delicate. Everything Beck knew he loved and cared about, balancing on a perfect tightrope, one false movement capable of throwing his livelihood to the ground, and shattering it.

He wouldn’t let that happen.

He would protect what he had with his life.

The world could come for him, but they’d never get Peter.

Peter was his, and he didn’t like to share.

He stared at Peter’s sleeping face, running a hand through those flawless curls. 

Some days he felt like he was living out a damn nightmare, but laying in bed next to Peter could never be anything but a dream.

Some days it was nearing impossible to live with the guilt of just being himself, knowing everything he’d done to make life hell for Peter. But nights like this. Nights where Peter curled up into him, seeking comfort in his warmth and softly mumbling “Quentin” in his sleep with that cute, dopey smile on his lips… well that was about as close to heaven as he could get.

Nights like those, he felt he might finally get the chance to forgive himself.

So hell no he wasn’t perfect, but he was good enough for Peter. And for the first time, that was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still working on are you bored yet I swear. I've just got a couple of other ideas/oneshots I wanted to bang out as well while y'all wait for another chapter.
> 
> Anyways, I've also got a companion piece to this one, from Peter's POV if you guys are interested in that. It's a bit darker, and it's a prequel. I referenced it a little bit here, but it deals with their early relationship, which was super unhealthy yikes haha


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